


Colpo di fulmine

by melonbutterfly



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Courtship, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Genderswap, Language of Flowers, Love at First Sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Bella goes on a trip, her first one since her mother's death, and meets Thorin. Who upon seeing her decides that a) his people really need trading contacts with hobbits and b) that maybe he should earn some money by filling the conveniently unoccupied slot of blacksmith in Hobbiton. Where Bella just so happens to live.<br/>Not that Bella is aware of that. All she knows is that she meets this really quite handsome dwarf who is looking for trading contacts for his people. Which, now that he mentions, Hobbiton really could use some new trade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colpo di fulmine

When Bella wakes up that day, the sky is heavy with clouds. As she takes care of her last handful of errands she watches with worry as they roll, fat and lazy, along the horizon, and just before lunch her worry comes true. From one moment to the next, they open up and send down a deluge of rain, heavy cold drops that have her drenched within minutes so that by the time she reaches the Dancing Pony she's dripping wet, as are her parcels, nevermind how well she tried to protect them under her cloak. There is no thought of departing today.

It is a bit of a pity, that, but not a true inconvenience; yes, Bella had meant to leave today but the world won't come to an end if she has to stay a day longer. With a little luck the weather will have cleared up by tomorrow and she can set out bright and early and thus make up a bit for the delay.

Right away she pays for another night and then goes to her room, changing clothes and spreading everything that got wet out so it may dry. Her cloak she takes downstairs with her to hang by the fire, and then she enjoys a late lunch or early tea, depending on how one would like to look at it. Chewing on a slice of thick, dark bread she looks around the room, observing the different sorts of travellers the Dancing Pony attracts. Once again for perhaps the dozenth time in the past week, she's glad she made the trip, even if it was hard at first, leaving her warm smial and comfortable routine. Since her mother's death three years ago she hasn't travelled at all, no more than day trips to see relatives. While Bella has no idea if she will now go back to regularly travelling as she and her mother used to or if this was her last trip of that kind, something of a goodbye to times gone past, it still helped her a lot. Her parents' loss hit her hard, first her father and then just a few years later her mother at what most hobbits would consider an awfully young age to lose one's parents, but she feels ready to move on with her life now and this trip has proven it.

Thus content with her choices, Bella settles by the fire and pulls her cloak, now dry and warm, into her lap to do some mending at the hems. After a short while – no more than half an hour, if that – somebody approaches her, and a quick glance reveals a dwarf, dripping wet. He's not aiming for her but for the fire, following her example and hanging up his own cloak. He's tall for a dwarf, certainly so for a hobbit, and it appears his own cloak holds up better in the rain than Bella's, for underneath he appears mostly dry. Lucky for him, for he's dressed in the usual dwarfish manner that seems complicated to Bella with its many layers and many materials, lots of leather and metal, all of it adorned. It would have been a pain to get all that wet. Still he remains by the fire for a moment, holding his hands out towards the warmth. Eyeing him surreptitiously for a moment Bella notices that his hair is mostly dry as well but that a few strands at the front are curling with wetness. It's oddly charming and perhaps why Bella speaks up, addressing the traveller: "I see you got caught up in the rain as well."

As conversation starters go it's a rather inane one. Still, the dwarf glances at her, first a quick look and then a longer one that somehow feels more deliberate, almost enough so to almost make Bella blush. "I had hoped to make it in time, but my horse started limping and I had to walk the last couple of miles."

"Oh." Bella frowns. "Is it alright?"

The dwarf shrugs. "It's impossible to tell right now."

"How unfortunate. I hope the animal will be alright." Bella knows little about horses or even ponies, which are more common in the Shire, but she knows that to have such an important and expensive animal impaired can cause serious disruption. "Is it much of an inconvenience for you?"

Shrugging again, the dwarf shakes his head. "There is nothing to be done about it right now. I have no urgent business, though, fortunately, now that avoiding the rain has become moot."

Bella smirks a little and nods towards his cloak. The water dripping from it has already formed a small puddle on he floor. "In more ways than one."

The corners of his mouth curl up. "Indeed."

After that, Bella knows not what to say and the silence stretches, turns awkward; just when she decides that, smooth conversation or not, she will simply ask for his name, the dwarf clears his throat. "I am wondering if perhaps, Mistress Hobbit, you might like to join me for dinner. I have some questions about your people that you might help me with, if you would be so kind."

"Of course!" Bella smiles at the dwarf. "I would be happy to answer any question you might have, and to join you for dinner as well."

The dwarf returns the smile enough so that the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, which is even more charming than the adorable way his hair curls when wet. Certainly enough so that Bella loses track of events for a moment, watching his face and the way his eyes seem to brighten a little, how the firelight gives his skin a deep golden tint. When she realises what she's doing, she this time does flush and ducks her head a little, embarrassed at her rudeness. She is being utterly ridiculous, she tells herself firmly. Yes, the dwarf is quite handsome and polite and has asked her to share the meal with him, but merely because he is curious about her kind – he is not the first to approach her with questions; Bree has its fair share of hobbits but in the past, she and her mother would go even farther, to Rivendell even, and there Bella had to answer as many questions as she could ask herself. Besides, even were it not so, they are both travellers in a tavern; coming from different places and heading for different places. They likely will never meet again once they part.

"I shall order meals for the both of us, then," the dwarf says and immediately approaches the landlord. The short reprieve gives Bella enough time to pat her warm cheeks and take a deep breath before he returns and leads her to a table close by the fire. As she sits, Bella smiles at him. "As we are about to share a meal, I think it would be prudent to exchange names. I am Belladonna Baggins."

"Thorin Oakenshield," the dwarf says, the corners of his mouth curling up again. He looks altogether far too attractive when he does that, Bella notices.

"Pleased to meet you," she replies, unable to help the smile stretching her lips. It's probably too wide, just like her cheeks are still flushed a little too deeply; she can only hope he will consider it friendliness. Hobbits are known for their friendliness, where they are known at all. Sometimes, that is.

"Pleased to be met," he returns, and there is a cheeky twinkle to his eyes that dims her hope a little. At least so far as him considering her merely friendly is concerned; her heart certainly appreciates it, going by the little flip it does. Oh, she is being utterly ridiculous; if she hadn't already agreed she would reconsider joining him for dinner.

Or, well, she should, at least, but even if nothing comes out of it – and it certainly will not – there is no harm in a little flirting with a handsome stranger, is there?

No, there isn't, she decides, and smiles as she leans forwards to support her chin on her hand. "So, Mister Oakenshield, you have questions about hobbits?"

"I do indeed." He nods seriously in a manner that might be playful; if she knew him better she would be able to tell. "I have lived among humans for a long time and have experienced great friendliness, but also hostility. My own people are rather private themselves, and I wonder: how do hobbits view strangers? Do they welcome them with open arms, or do they appreciate them better the sooner they leave?"

A legitimate question; Bella tilts her head thoughtfully. "I think that depends on where in the Shire one goes, I suppose. Along the borders they are more used to visitors, certainly, but some hobbits appreciate them less for it. It also depends on the visitor's intention, I suppose. If they come merely out of curiosity about hobbits, well. We do not appreciate being treated as a curiosity, certainly. Traders are always welcome, though."

Nodding slowly, Thorin opens his mouth, but before he can say whatever he is planning to a waitress comes with their food, setting down bowls of thick stew and a plate containing cut meat, cheese and bread. It's a rich meal and Bella knows he must have specifically ordered it; otherwise they would be served only the stew with one slice of bread as Bella had been earlier. She would have been happy enough with it as the stew is very good, so she can't help but be flattered that Thorin apparently wanted to make very sure she would not leave his table hungry.

"Where do you come from, if you don't mind me asking?" Thorin asks once the waitress is gone, dipping his spoon into his bowl.

"Hobbiton; the Bagginses have always been located in Hobbinton. My mother was a Took, though, from Tookborough; they're the most adventurous of all hobbit clans. Where do you hail from?"

"Far to the East, originally," Thorin says, but though he replies he does not give more detail and there is something about his face, a certain stillness, that stays Bella's tongue from asking more questions. Abruptly she remembers that he said he lived with humankind, long or often enough to experience different kinds of hospitality; did he leave his people? Was he exiled? Or is he merely a trader who travels far and wide to sell his wares?

After brief contemplation Bella decides that it matters not; he has been nothing but kind to her and she will not make any assumptions about him. "You have come far, then," she simply says and then changes topics. "Have you been to the Shire yet?"

"Just briefly, while travelling through," he readily answers her question. She wouldn't go so far as to say he appears relieved for the change in topic, but his shoulders appear to relax a little and Bella is fairly sure she did not imagine that.

Over the course of the meal they chat a bit about Hobbiton and the Shire, but also about several human settlements Thorin stayed at as well as Ered Luin and the Blue Mountains, where the few dwarrows that come to the Shire on occasion hail from. Thorin appears to perk up at the news, though his face betrays nothing as he asks how often they come. Bella shrugs, deliberately nonchalant, and says that they usually come around twice a year, which is only a bit of an exaggeration; they do, yes, but not necessarily to Hobbiton. To find out if he's been exiled or is in hiding, though, she needs to find out whether he means to hide from the dwarrows. His reaction stays her worry, thankfully; he nods thoughtfully, then leans closer towards her a little. "As you might have already figured out, Mistress Baggins, I am looking for a place to settle for a while and I had been contemplating the Shire as a possibility. Regular contact with dwarrows to bring news is certainly a boon."

Certainly, if he were a criminal or on the run from his people, this would not be the case. Relieved, Bella smiles perhaps a little brighter than she should, considering she is merely sharing a meal with a stranger and talking about her home as travellers do. "What is it you do, then, Master Oakenshield?"

Thorin raises one single eyebrow. "Why, Mistress Baggins, I am a smith." When Bella laughs abruptly at his droll tone he smiles. "You wouldn't happen to know if a smith's services could be of use somewhere in the Shire?" Oh, so that's where he's going!

Excited with this new development and grinning outright, Bella supports her head on one arm. "As it so happens, Hobbinton hasn't had its own smith in neigh on a hundred years. We've always had to contract outside sources; smithing, you see, is not an overly popular craft among hobbits. A custom order can take neigh on a handful of months to get done. So I think it's fair to say that Hobbiton, at least, would profit from having a smith available closer by. And the smith, I dare say, would profit as well." She can scarcely believe her own forwardness, but he certainly seems not to mind.

Returning the grin, Thorin leans forwards as well. "And what, Mistress Baggins, of Hobbiton's people? Would they be welcoming?"

Bella struggles to keep her own expression nonchalant and not let her teasing grin slip into an embarrassed smile at her own brazenness. She knows not for sure what she's doing here, except that this quite handsome dwarf is flirting with her and might possibly be considering moving to Hobbiton, at least for a while. He will likely leave again – dwarrows do not settle apart from their mountains, everyone knows that – but Bella decides right then and there that she cares not. No; all she cares about is the way Thorin's captivating blue eyes are focused wholly on her and the excited tingle that curls in her belly at being the centre of such an intense gaze. "Why, Master Oakenshield, I do believe they will."

With a satisfied expression Thorin sits back in his seat and smiles.

They talk well into the evening; first about the details of Thorin's possible settling in Hobbiton, but since he has to speak to the Thain about the practicalities that topic is exhausted quickly and they move on to more interesting things. He comments on how rare it is to see a hobbit outside of the Shire; when she's flustered and says that most don't tend to leave but she felt the need for a bit of a change he drops it, so she in turn drops it when she later asks how it comes he, as a smith, is not living with his folk and he shrugs and not quite evasively replies that he's used to it, he always spends the summers elsewhere. Instead, they turn to safer topics, and two of Bella's favourite ones at that: food and travelling. With her mother Bella used to travel a lot, but only rarely outside the Shire. Among hobbits she's considered rather cosmopolitan, but in comparison to Thorin she feels like her cousin Lobelia, who never once set a foot past Hobbiton's borders. He doesn't explicitly say where he's from but it becomes clear quickly that he has travelled far and wide, experienced different climates and people. The stories he tells are not extraordinary – of food and strange customs, almost faux-pas' he committed or that were done to him – but Bella listens with fascination. She herself gets to tell some of her own stories as well; when her mother was still alive they used to travel a lot, mostly around the Shire to visit relatives but a few times her mother had taken her all the way to Rivendell. Upon hearing that, Thorin seems pleasantly surprised. He's never been there personally, but he heard of the place and is curious what Bella has to say of it, especially its inhabitants.

"You see, I am familiar with the Greenwood elves and they aren't exactly warm and welcoming," he explains. "Then again, it can be called traditional for dwarrows and elves not to get along."

Bella can't say she knows much about that, but upon thinking about it, neither can she recall ever having met a dwarf at Rivendell. No, the only dwarrows she met were on markets, the big annual one over in Michel Delving. It's a topic that affords them another hour of conversation, and by then it's well into the night. Because of the significantly level of noise that rose the further evening progressed at the tavern they had to sit close together; they are now sitting next to one another, Bella closer to the fire with Thorin's coat still hanging next to it. In a way he's framing her in from both sides, she realises, and can't manage to suppress the flush rising in her cheeks at the thought.

There is a part in her that's appalled at her own brazenness, how forthright in her flirting she has been; she has always been a little cheeky, liked following her own gut over her head (the Took over the Baggins side of her, one might say), but this is a little much even for her. For Yvanna's sake, she even all but literally invited the dwarf to come stay in Hobbiton! What will she do if he does?

Then again, he probably won't. The Shire is nice and pretty, but its inhabitants generally make it a less than desirable location for an extended stay, if not a brief visit. If he will come at all – and who knows if he will, it wouldn't be the first time somebody not-quite-lied to Bella because they were hoping to get into her bed. A part of her – the Tookish part, no doubt – is defiant, says so what, he's pleasing to look at, why not enjoy his company for a night? She has no wish to marry him, after all, and there is nothing wrong with it.

There isn't, that much is true, but it would be reckless to act like such things have no consequence, not to mention that Bella isn't a tween anymore. She could bed him, yes, but she knows herself well enough to know that it might be pleasing for a night, but she will feel empty and foolish come morning, especially if she wakes to an empty bed. Her affairs, brief though some of them were, had always involved hobbits she was fond of and who were fond of her. Marriage had only rarely entered anybody's mind, certainly not at their age, but bedding a virtual stranger is not something Bella is made for.

Then again, she might very well be getting ahead of herself. All Thorin is probably seeking is a little company for the evening – and not for the night, nor his bed. Though as that evening draws to a close, she does notice him looking from the corners of his eyes. Not the kind of look that is meant to be a signal, a suggestion; a more assessing kind of look. Bella truly knows not what to do with it. She isn't unfamiliar with the ways of flirting – truly, it is all but expected for hobbits to engage in flirtatious activities and however much more they're comfortable with in their tweens – but she has no idea what this means.

As the evening progresses to a point where it's almost not appropriate anymore calling it evening instead of night, Bella starts to yawn. Thorin notices, she notices him noticing and tries to suppress it – the conversation is pleasant, she doesn't think she has met a person as fascinating as Thorin in all her life, and she really doesn't want for it to end. But after the third time she has to cover her mouth conspicuously, the corners of Thorin's mouth quirk up and he says, "It is late. I should leave you to your evening." He glances around at the crowd and its state of inebriation – generally a good way to tell the time in a tavern – and winces a little. "Do forgive me, I did not realise how much time had passed."

"Oh, no," Bella hastens to wave him off, to her chagrin interrupted by another yawn that overtakes her. "No. I really enjoyed our conversation."

"I did as well." Thorin's eyes are far too blue and far to devastating, especially when he looks straight at her and smiles the way he's doing now. Somehow, paradoxically, his smile is all the more gorgeous by how it remains small; it feels intimate, Thorin's body turned towards hers, his whole attention on her. Again, Bella flushes, but it not being by far not the first time this evening, she ignores the flush heating her cheeks and returns the smile.

The expression slips off her face when Thorin's next words reach her ears, easily understandable despite the noise level in the tavern. "You have an early start tomorrow, have you not? I really should not have kept you so long."

Right, she's going home tomorrow. Disappointment wells up in her and she chastens herself for her own stupidity; what did she expect? She will leave, he will leave, each in probably entirely different directions and their paths were fairly unlikely to ever cross again. She had known this from the start, why does it catch her so off-guard now?

"Of course," she says, managing somehow to dredge up a smile from somewhere, though she has no doubt it's but a pale resemblance of the one she wore before she remembered the briefness of their acquaintance. She rises to her feet and rolls up her cloak, long since mended, and tucks it under her arm. When she looks up she finds that Thorin has risen as well and is standing before her, not crowding her in but... close. "It was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Misstress Baggins," he says in that low, smooth voice, and Bella cannot help but smile again at that, though it's undoubtedly tinged with regret she cannot hide.

"The pleasure was all mine," she replies with a little curtsey. "Save travels to you, and I... I hope we may meet again, Master Oakenshield."

Suddenly her hand is in his – really just her fingers as he lifts them to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, a strange gravity to the gesture when he looks up at her. "I hope so as well," he says as he steps aside and, completely flustered with her heart pounding hard in her chest, Bella steps past him and weaves her way through the crowd to the staircase going up to her rooms. Just before the bend she turns around, but she cannot spot him, the humans too tall and too numerous to allow her to catch one last glimpse of him.

Her hand curling into a fist, Bella hurries up to her room. Despite the late hour, she remains awake for a long time, lying in bed trying to commit to memory the feeling of his rough hand under her fingers, his warm, soft lips, the gentle scratch of his beard against her skin.

*

Three weeks after Bella has returned from her excursion to Bree, there is a knock on her door. This in itself is nothing unusual; neither is the fact that her cousin's cheeks are flushed and she's breathless with excitement. Evergreen, and this is not a judgement but a simple statement of fact, likes gossip – hearing it, but even more so imparting it. She's not malicious about it though and gossip is a fairly acceptable past-time for hobbits, especially tweens, and since otherwise Evergreen tends to be shy Bella sees no reason to discourage her.

So she smiles and invites her in, offers tea and biscuits, but – and this _is_ unusual; very rarely is a piece of gossip juicy enough for Evergreen to forego tea and biscuits in favour of telling it – Evergreen shakes her head, nearly vibrating with excitement and eyes wide. "You will not _believe_ what happened, Bella!"

That, at least, being Evergreen's conventional opening, is not unusual. "What is it, then?" Bella indulges her cousin like she usually does.

"A dwarf!" Evergreen breathes, and suddenly Bella is a lot more interested.

"A dwarf?" She repeats.

"In Hobbiton!" Evergreen squeaks, then takes a deep breath to divulge the whole story. "He came to the Green Dragon today, paid for a week's stay upfront and asked for directions to speak to the Thain! Heather witnessed the whole thing. A week, Bella! What could he possibly want in Hobbiton to stay that long for, what do you think?"

Bella swallows past the dryness in her throat. "What is his name?"

Evergreen waves the question off with a careless wave of her hand. "I don't know, something violent, dwarfish, Heather didn't remember. Beechshield or something. But do you think, what could he want? Is he here to establish trade? Azalea has a cousin who has a friend who has a cousin who lives in Michel Delving and she says dwarves like to be formal about that sort of thing."

"Dwarrows," Bella corrects absently, letting the pitter-patter of her cousin's chatter flow past her. Beechshield, Oakenshield, they're pretty similar, especially to a hobbit with no experience with other races' types of name. Could it be...? It cannot be happenstance that so shortly after she talked to a dwarf about Hobbiton that a dwarf shows up there. Except that, of course, that it's perfectly possible that it's just that: happenstance. There are the similarities in Thorin's name and the name Heather remembered... but it's not like Bella, for all that she has seen and read more of Middle Earth than Heather, has so much more experience with dwarrows and their names. Maybe -shield is a very common type of last name for dwarrows.

"What do you think, Bella?" Evergreen's excited voice pulls her out of her thoughts.

Not having listened to a word, Bella licks her lips and thinks fast. "I think it's high time we pay grandmother a visit. We haven't seen her in ages, don't you agree?"

Evergreen blinks for a moment, and then a smile blooms on her face. "That is a very good idea, cousin."

They pack the biscuits Bella baked only today and head off.

They arrive at a time that is really too late for afternoon tea, but too early for dinner. Which turns out to be a good thing because after the time for afternoon tea had properly passed, grandmother Adamanta apparently threw out all guests that had "spontaneously" found their way to her smial. And there were many of them, Bella and Evergreen hear them coming and hide in the bushes as they walk past. Bella counts at least fifteen, if not more, relatives, friends, and neighbours. Ah, hobbit curiosity.

"Psst!" Evergreen hisses beside her after the main throng of them has walked past their hiding place. "Prim!"

Bella's cousin and best friend Primula, who had been dragging her feet after the gaggle of women, stops walking and peers suspiciously in their direction. Evergreen, who has not been blessed with a sense for subtlety, crashes out of the bushes towards her; really, they're lucky the others have walked far enough ahead not to hear the noise over the sound of their own chatter. If any of them spotted Bella and Evergreen, they surely would take the excuse to turn around again to head back to the Thain's house, and then Adamanta would send all of them away.

"Did you see him?!" Evergreen hisses, eyes wide. "The dwarf?"

Prim rolls her eyes; she had never shown particular interest in gossip. Not that Evergreen lets that stop her; she appears to think that it's just a phase and eventually Prim will grow out of it, nevermind that Prim is already past her tweens and unlikely to exhibit a sudden change in personality by this point. "No. He stayed inside grandpa's office the whole time."

"What were they talking about?" Evergreen demands breathlessly, causing Prim's eyes to roll heavenwards again.

"How would I know? Like I said, they stayed in the office the whole time." She watches Evergreen's face fall for a moment before sighing. "But I think if you give her a little time to recover from afternoon tea, grandma would welcome the help for making dinner. She can hardly just send the dwarf away once they're done in there."

Both Bella and Evergreen nod sagely; this is true. Everybody knows that if one has a visitor when a mealtime approaches, said visitors _has_ to be invited to said meal. It was wise of Adamanta to see her visitors out when she did, though since they already participated in afternoon tea, it wouldn't have been quite as impolite to not invite them to partake in dinner.

Hopefully, dinner won't see quite as many visitors as afternoon tea did in the Thain's house; most hobbits who were both curious enough and knew Adamanta well enough or were related to her closely enough to not make it impolite to appear unannounced hopefully will already have been sent away. Most other hobbits who have heard about the dwarf – which must be most of Hobbiton by this point – will, while curious, probably have the patience to wait a day for news, or to hear it second-hand. The gossip network in Hobbiton and beyond has been operating since before Hobbiton even got its name, and everybody knows their place in it. Most of the hobbits who prefer themselves right at the centre of it probably just passed Bella and Evergreen by.

"Such a great idea, Prim," Evergreen compliments her cousin. "I think I will go get some asparagus; mother has promised grandmother to give her some from our garden. It will be better than showing up empty-handed, what do you think, Bella?"

"I think that's a very good idea," Bella says, not mentioning the wrapped bowl of biscuits she's carrying. The asparagus will make a better excuse anyway, and furthermore, she wants to prevent Evergreen from using the moment of respite while they wait until it's close enough to dinner time to realise that Bella has never really participated in gossip before, not the distribution of it, much less the fishing for it. Oh, she participates in gossip just as much as any other hobbit does, but she is not the type to visit friends or relatives merely to impart a piece of juicy news she has heard. Certainly, she does not go out of her way to come in possession of said news to begin with. As soon as Evergreen remembers that, she will start probing Bella with questions and that she really is not looking forwards to.

"Alright, I will hurry!" With that, Evergreen is off, leaving Bella with Prim.

Prim, who is a little quicker than Evergreen and is looking at Bella with one eyebrow raised. "And what interest do you have in the dwarf, dear cousin? Or is that it – a dwarf? I know you are interested in the whole of Middle Earth and all that, but I always thought you cared more for elves and less for dwarves."

"I'm just as much interested in dwarrows," Bella tries, but if nothing else, the flush she cannot prevent from heating her cheeks probably makes her seem suspicious. Besides which, it is not entirely true – she has never been particularly interested in dwarrows. Not uninterested either, not that, but Prim is right, Bella had always been more curious about elves. Until her return from Bree, that is, but that having been a little more than three weeks ago, Bella has not yet had the need to go to the bookshop to inquire about books about dwarrows, her own library being sufficiently stocked as of yet. Word of her changed interests won't have gone out yet, of course.

Though facing facts, even if it had, Prim is not easily fooled. She raises an eyebrow now, expression playfully unimpressed. "Is that so?"

Bella, not one to crack easily, firms her expression and nods decisively. "Most certainly."

"So you are most certainly interested in... dwarrows," Prim repeats, unable to suppress a teasing grin that only broadens when the waning blush in Bella's cheeks returns with full force at that reinterpretation of her words.

"No! I mean... yes? Not the way you imply." Maybe she does crack easily after all.

"Really, Bella, you are only digging ourself a deeper hole here," Prim teases. "Truly, you had best say nothing at all. Unless you wish to tell me what is _really_ going on, that is. You are not one particularly prone to gossip, and while I suppose you have always shown an interest in Hobbiton's rare visitor, you are going to quite extraordinary lengths now for this particular one. Is it someone you know? Are you involved in a feud between the elves and the dwarrows?"

"There is no feud." Shaking her head, Bella bites her lip. "Say, Prim, you wouldn't happen to know the dwarf's name, would you?"

Head tilted, Prim eyes her for a moment. "It was something noble and sufficiently dwarfish, Thorin something-shield, I think."

Bella turns beet red, she knows it and cannot prevent it; she can barely spend a thought on even noticing, too surprised as she is. She shouldn't be, of course. From the moment she heard of this mysterious dwarf visitor, she had been torn between willing to consider the possibility of it being Thorin and chiding herself for whimsy. Hearing it is truly him, though, throws her right back to that evening nigh on four weeks ago, the evening they met and had one of the best conversations Bella can recall ever having in her whole life. More than that, though, it reminds her of the feelings Thorin had caused in her, of the way her heart beat twice as fast when he looked at her so intently with his deep blue eyes. Time and distance had had her convince herself that she had only imagined it and that it had been one-sided besides, but if he really is here, she couldn't have.

Unless he isn't here for her at all – and of course he wouldn't be, how conceited is she to think that? How self-centred? He had asked her about trading, and of course that is his business here. It has nothing to do with her and she better stop thinking like it does.

Unfortunately, Prim's curiosity has been piqued, and she will not let go now. "Belladonna Baggins the Second, tell me what's going on this instant," she demands sternly. "You know this dwarf?"

For a second or two Bella wavers, then caves. There's no point trying to keep it secret – there is nothing _to_ keep secret. "If he is who I think it is – then he is a dwarf I met while in Bree. Remember, I had to stay a night longer because of the weather? That evening I met a dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield, who asked about the Shire and trading with hobbits."

Prim tilts her head, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she stares searchingly at her cousin and best friend. "And this dwarf, this Thorin- you _like_ him!" The realisation catches her mid-sentence and her eyes go wide. " _Belladonna!_ "

Just like that, the heat that vanished when she served herself a healthy dose of reality returns to her cheeks. Covering them with her hands in a futile attempt to hide the deepening colour, Bella shakes her head. "No! Yes, we had a nice conversation, but I mean- there was nothing- it was just a friendly conversation between travellers, nothing more! Not what you're- insinuating, Prim."

Prim's eyes twinkle. "What am I insinuating, then? No, really, I would like to know which conclusions you think I jumped to, dear cousin, for I do not know. All I said was that you liked him, and clearly you do."

"Do not!" Bella protests, a little childishly. Embarrassed, she ducks her head. "I mean, of course I did, he was friendly enough, but nothing- Prim-" With a strangled noise she whirls around and turns her back to Prim's far too knowing eyes.

There is a brief moment of silence, then Prim asks a little tentatively, "Is he... here for you?"

"No," Bella replies quickly. Recovering a little from the mortification, she turns around again and manages to meet Prim's gaze almost soberly. "Certainly not. He did ask me about trading and about the Shire, and I mostly told him about Hobbiton, of course. That's why he's here, it can't be anything else."

"But you're not sure," Prim realises. She is really too smart for her own good. "Oh, Bella." With that, she draws her friend into a hug.

Bella exhales, then slowly breathes in the familiar scent of her friend; earthy and a little flowery, the scent of freshly baked bread in her hair. Prim might be a couple years younger than Bella, but they had always been good friends, like-minded in many things; after her father's and then especially her mother's death Prim had always been there for her, visiting her almost daily and engaging her in the topics of her books, something she personally cared not much about.

They draw apart, a small smile playing around Prim's lips as she takes Bella's hand. "Somehow, I am not surprised that it's a dwarf to catch your eye."

"He did not-" Bella attempts a token protest, then gives up mid-way. Who is she trying to fool here? Herself, if anything, because she certainly is not fooling Prim.

"Well, that is that, then." Prim nods decisively. "I will come back to grandmother with you."

Startled, Bella tries to protest, but before she can open her mouth her cousin is already shaking her head. "You did not honestly think I would not take a very close look at him, now that I know what's going on between you two?"

"But there's nothing going on!" Bella protests. "He's just here to trade, for his people, not because of me."

Both eyebrows raised, Prim sends her a very sceptical look. "You know as well as I that Hobbiton has not that much to offer – certainly not anything better than most other villages in the Shire, and there must be one just like Hobbiton closer to his people, if Michel Delving will not serve. You must have told him this when he asked, did you not?"

Well – yes. Bella did not put it like that, but yes, she did. Hobbiton is not that special, truly, and she told Thorin this.

"So why did he come here, then, to the middle of the Shire? When it must mean more work for him and his people?" Prim shakes her head. "I am very much inclined to believe he is here for more than just trade, and if it's not you, what else is there?"

Instead of finding them encouraging, Prim's words sober Bella further. "Certainly not for me, Prim, certainly not. As you say, it puts him and his people out, and he would not do that just for me. Perhaps they wish to trade with a village that has no established trade contacts outside of the Shire? I do not know, but it cannot be for me."

Prim opens her mouth to argue, but a voice calling their names from the distance interrupts her before she can utter a sound. It's Evergreen, returning with a basket full of vegetables fresh from the garden; asparagus, a few bits and bops like onions and bell peppers, the sort of thing everyone puts into baskets when they invite themselves over for dinner. Sometimes Bella doesn't even manage to eat her own vegetables because she's too preoccupied giving them away and eating the ones given to her instead.

"Thank goodness, I was worried you had gone without me," Evergreen pants once she reaches them. "Mother insisted!" She gestures towards her basket. Now that she's closer Bella can clearly see a few bundles of herbs, still with their roots and little clumps of earth so Adamanta can replant them if she does not need them today.

"We wouldn't," Prim reassures her, sending Bella a significant look. "But now we can go."

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Evergreen bubbles, immediately starting to march towards their grandmother's smial; she doesn't even look back to see if they are keeping up with her as she keeps talking. "I have never met a dwarf before – sure I have heard of them, and of other folk too of course, but they are just so odd, don't you think? Imagine, living in mountains! I heard dwarves sleep on beds of rock and eat stone, have you ever heard such a thing? And they seem to think some stones are worth more than an entire week's worth of vegetables, or at least that's what Azalea's friend's cousin says. Astonishing."

Prim sends Bella another pointed look that Bella takes care to ignore; she has no intention of letting on that she has met dwarrow before – or at least one. Though the attempt to keep the matter out of the gossip might be entirely pointless, if it turns out to indeed be Thorin speaking to her grandfather the Thain right now. Bella certainly cannot pretend not to know Thorin when standing before him, nevermind that she would not want to even if she could.

If she even meets him, that is. If it is him to begin with.

Their grandmother opens the door to them with one raised eyebrow and a highly sceptical expression. Spotting Evergreen does not change that in the least, recognising Bella only deepens it and Prim seems to round it up for her. "Hello, grandmother," Evergreen says brightly before she can say anything else. "My mother sends this for you, and we heard you were having guests so I thought we might offer to help."

Sceptically, Adamanta surveys the three of them for another moment before sighing. "Very well, you may come in, then. I suppose there is no way around this and with you already here I at least can send everybody else away. But don't think I don't know exactly why you're here!"

"Why, to assist our beloved grandmother in any way she wishes," Evergreen chirps with wide, innocent eyes. Bella has to bite her tongue not to start laughing inappropriately; Prim nudging her with her elbow and copying Evergreen's expression truly does not help on that account.

Adamanta shakes her head with an almost fond expression. "If you are so eager to help, Evergreen, you may go into the garden and get a few things for me. Potatoes enough for six, some carrots, apples, fennel, a few herbs to match, and make sure you don't track any dirt inside when you bring them."

Defeated by her own cleverness, Evergreen looks conflicted for a moment, looking to Bella and Prim for help. When they have nothing to offer she sighs and, with a slightly resigned "Yes, grandmother," obediently trundles off into the garden.

Her remaining two guests are led into the kitchen by Adamanta, where she bides them to sit and makes tea they have with Bella's biscuits. Examining the basket Evergreen brought, she shakes her head. "Well, this makes up a little for that girl's curiosity. She'll get herself into trouble one of these days. But you two!" She suddenly turns to Bella and Prim. "I did not expect the two of you to join in. Prim, I just saw you barely an hour ago and you looked rather glad to be leaving. What's going on?"

Bella's cheeks colour and she quickly says "Nothing" at the same time as Prim blurts out, "Bella knows the dwarf!"

"Master Oakenshield?" Adamanta turns to Bella with a surprised expression. "How come?"

She really did not wish to discuss this with her grandmother and curses Prim for telling her straight away, but on the other hand, it would have gotten out one way or another eventually. Especially since it apparently really is Thorin in there; Bella really does not know what to do with that fact. "We met when I went to Bree. He, uhm, asked about the Shire and trading with hobbits and I told him about Hobbiton."

"Well, he did mention trading," Adamanta says thoughtfully. "He also is a smith, but I understand most dwarrows are."

Prim snorts. "Earlier when everybody asked you didn't even really remember his name." She ducks her head when Adamanta raises her eyebrow at her. "I mean. Well really, he could do that anywhere in the Shire, hobbits don't make great smiths mostly, and there are certainly places easier to reach than Hobbiton."

"Certainly," Adamanta agrees thoughtfully, looking at Bella with piercing eyes. "He is quite the handsome dwarf, as well – as far as dwarrows go, in any case." She peers at Bella, who quickly lowers her gaze and tries – and fails – really hard not to turn beet read. Eventually Adamanta sighs. "Just like your mother, dear. She saw your father and nothing anybody said could turn her mind on somebody else after."

Oh, now that's taking things a bit far. "I am not- this is not like that, grandmother," she protests. Honestly, as if she's going to marry Thorin! Marriage hasn't been on Bella's mind since she moved past childhood dreams; she's content enough with her life. Marriage, honestly. Her grandmother is getting far ahead of herself.

Unfortunately and not really surprisingly, Bella's protests don't really impress Adamanta much. "If you say so, dear," she says placidly but she smiles like she knows something Bella doesn't, and exchanges a knowing look with Prim that really makes Bella uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Evergreen chooses that moment to return from the garden, basket full of washed vegetables and a few cut herbs. In itself that wouldn't be too great an occasion because neither Adamanta nor Prim are more involved in gossip than is common for hobbits, but Evergreen certainly is; she would eat the information that Bella and the dwarf have some kind of history up with a spoon. By tomorrow all of Hobbiton would probably know. But Evergreen's arrival – or rather, the arrival of the food she carries – marks the beginning of dinner preparations and for a while they're all of them more involved in discussing what is to be done and dividing up tasks. Once their hands are all busy and they're free to talk again, Adamanta asks Evergreen about her sister's newborn and from there they discuss recent developments in their various relatives', friends', acquaintances' and neighbours' lives – but not Bella's.

Until, about an hour after their arrival, the door to the Thain's study opens and Gerontius' voice can be heard in light conversation with the guest, praising his wife's cooking. They all immediately fall silent; Evergreen out of sheer curiosity, Bella because of a sudden onset of extreme nerves, Prim and Adamanta out of curiosity of a different kind than Evergreen's. Then Gerontius enters the kitchen, closely followed by Thorin, clad again in dark blue and solid shoes, an assortment of metal and leather on his person but, Bella notes, unlike in Bree, no visible weapon.

"My darling wife, I see we have company," Gerontius says, greeting Adamanta with a kiss on his cheek before moving on to, in order of how they're seated, Evergreen, Prim and Bella. "I thought I heard visitors," he says with a twinkle in his eyes. He probably knows very well that they had their fair share of them before Adamanta sent them away. "It's always nice to have family over for dinner. Master Oakenshield, these are my granddaughters Evergreen Greenhand, Primula Brandybuck and Belladonna Baggins."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Misses Greenhand and Brandybuck," Thorin greets them politely. "Delighted to see you again, Bella."

Evergreen is wide-eyed and Prim... surprisingly, as well, so it's to Bella to reply. Just why did he have to use her first name so familiarly? Right, because she offered it to him during their first meeting. Here, in her grandmother's kitchen, she is surprised all over again at her own forwardness.

"Uhm, yes, hello," Bella stammers, then jolts a little when Prim kicks her feet under the table. Right, maybe she should stop acting like a nervous tween. Straightening her spine, she smiles. "I see you found your way to Hobbiton; how do you like the Shire, Thorin?"

"Beautiful land," Thorin immediately replies. "Very green, very... lovely."

Nobody misses the way his eyes flicker to Bella when he says that. Bella is probably the only one though who tells herself she shouldn't interpret too much into the gesture.

"Well, take a seat, the food is almost ready." Adamanta gestures towards a chair at the head of the table, the place of honour where guests more important than curious hobbits or relatives are seated. It incidentally happens to also be at the other end of the table from Bella.

Some people might this interpret as an attempt by her grandmother to keep the two of them apart, but Bella knows better; this is her grandmother, getting ready for an interrogation. And sure enough, Adamanta sends Evergreen to the other end of the table, to Gerontius' left, herself taking the chair to Thorin's right which puts Prim to Thorin's left and Bella to her grandfather's right.

Bella is torn on whether she should appreciate the seating order or worry about it. On the one hand, it prevents her from talking to Thorin and gives Adamanta an opportunity to interrogate him and Evergreen an opportunity to interrogate Bella. On the other, it at least saves her from talking to Thorin while her relatives listen avidly and watch her make a fool of herself.

Over the course of dinner she goes back and forth on her opinion; she decides that it's a good thing when her grandfather takes the opportunity to ask Bella detailed questions about her trip – they hadn't yet had the opportunity to discuss it at length and Gerontius apparently decides that now is as good a time as any – but then she hears her grandmother ask Thorin, "So how did you meet our Bella here?" and is instantly mortified. She can't even take comfort in Prim's sympathy because her friend and cousin is completely focused on Thorin and anything he says. At one point they start talking about the Shire and Hobbiton and hobbits; Bella is a little preoccupied dodging Evergreen's increasingly pointed question about her connection to Thorin to be able to pay proper attention but at one point she definitely hears the midsummer festival being mentioned. And the flowers crowns.

Eventually she comes to a decision: there is just no way this dinner could have proceeded without her being embarrassed. What was she thinking, agreeing to this? Right, she had felt like she needed to know immediately whether Thorin was the visiting dwarf or not. She really could and should have waited until somebody told her; this is an exercise in masochism she will definitely never repeat.

Then, after they have mostly finished eating and are really just nibbling leftovers anymore, her grandmother says "Oh, it's getting dark already! How the time flies. Bella, you should accompany Thorin back to the Green Dragon, Hobbiton can be difficult to navigate for someone not familiar with hobbit settlements."

The sky outside has barely taken on the faint rose tint of early sundown, and one literally only needs to follow the path from the Thain's smial to the Green Dragon. Bella has never been in this sort of situation but she's pretty sure this is her grandmother showing her approval both by giving them an opportunity and legitimate excuse to be relatively alone and by saving her from Evergreen's interrogation that is sure to come once Thorin will have left.

Naturally, Bella jumps on the opportunity. "You are right, grandmother. Especially in the dark one might get lost easily."

Thorin seems a little nonplussed; he peers outside at the still pretty bright daylight, but is wise enough not to comment. He makes the appropriate going away noises – thank you for dinner, it was lovely, et cetera – and accepts the wrapped up package of leftovers Adamanta gives him in case he gets peckish at one point. Then Adamanta all but shoves the two of them out the door. Behind it they can hear her immediately bark an order to Evergreen to do the dishes, keeping her well away from getting a view on the two of them.

Not the others, though. And hobbits are curious beings; Bella is absolutely sure both Prim and Gerontius are right now trying to get a good view on the path while still being hidden themselves.

Thorin, completely unaware of that fact, is eyeing the package curiously. "Food is very important to hobbits, is it not?" he remarks, looking at her with a curious twinkle in his eyes.

Whatever he's doing, it feels a bit like baiting so Bella reacts accordingly, raising one eyebrow and sniffing playfully. "Of course it is. Now come, we don't want to miss the last of the daylight." She starts walking down the path leading away from her grandparents' smial, opening the gate for him to pass through before following.

"Of course not." Thorin peers up at the blue sky, turning faintly purple towards the horizon. "The sun vanishes so quickly this time of year. I do believe it will only remain bright enough to read by for another hour or so."

"You laugh now, but just you wait until you find yourself stuck with a handful of curious hobbits for an entire evening. Somehow, once the last meal has gone by it's like some hobbits entirely lose their sense of time."

Thorin laughs slightly, a pleasant sound that for some reason makes Bella a little fluttery. "I have already found that hobbits do seem to spend a lot of their time eating, or preparing to eat. You did not mention the seven meals a day your kind prefer."

"That's because you've never had a human pat you on the head and laugh about how such small creatures can eat so much," Bella tells him darkly. "You only need it happening but the once to learn to keep some habits of your kind to yourself, for they will only be considered adorable peculiarities by the big folk."

That sobers Thorin up. "That, I can relate to. For some reason humans seem to consider physical size an important factor for nearly everything. Then again, perhaps that is so because they have little else to offer."

Bella gasps and nudges him with her elbow. "How rude! Humans have quite lovely poetry, you know."

He grins at her. "Well, then, so long as they can _rhyme_..."

She shakes her head, flustered a little by the way he's looking at her, blue eyes bright and face light. That's the only excuse she has to offer for just blurting it out like that; she's distracted by his face. "So why did you come to Hobbiton? Truly for the trading opportunity?"

He stops walking and looks at her. For a moment they just stare at each other, then he lowers his gaze and takes her hand into his. "Surely you know better than that, Bella."

She doesn't. She's hoped, but... she doesn't know. That's why she asked.

Her hand looks small in his big one, his skin rough against hers. "Well," she says, swallowing. "I, uhm. I am glad to see you again."

"That. That's good." He clears his throat awkwardly, then hastily steps back, dropping her hand. For a moment disappointment wells up in her but then she hears footsteps approaching from the path ahead of them. Right, they better not be spotted looking so intimate in the middle of a path. Or... anywhere, really.

They both start walking again. Bella is too flustered to say anything for a moment and when she dares a quick glance towards Thorin she finds him with his hands behind his back, looking straight ahead. She might only be imagining the light dusting of colour on his cheeks but she's pretty sure she isn't. Maybe.

"Oh, Bella!" the hobbit who inadvertently interrupted them says as he walks around the bend; it's her cousin Drogo Baggins. He glances at Thorin for a moment, seems slightly confused and then appears to just shrug the presence of a dwarf in Hobbiton off completely. Drogo really is not one for gossip. "So nice to see you. I have been meaning to talk to you about something."

The way he's balancing on the balls of his feet a little, gaze sliding off to the side as a light flush dusks his cheeks really is more than enough for Bella to know exactly what he wants. Raising one eyebrow, she smirks. "Oh, is that so? Go ahead."

"Uh." Drogo's eyes flicker to Thorin. "Perhaps over tea tomorrow?"

Bella is having fun with this, and she's going to have more fun tomorrow – it would probably be too cruel to make him talk about it in front of anybody, much less a stranger. The Bagginses tend to be a little private about their emotions – the big ones, in any case. "Very well," she thus grants, patting Drogo on the shoulder and smiling very widely. "I shall see you tomorrow, then, Drogo."

Slightly wide-eyed, Drogo gulps. "Yes. I will make those strawberry buns you like?"

An obvious attempt to coax her into going easy on him; she will see what he has to tell her tomorrow before deciding whether it will work. Now, she just keeps smiling. "Lovely. I look forwards to it."

He smiles a little shakily, ducks his head and scurries off. Bella almost wants to laugh but keeps it at a grin that she means to share with Thorin, but to her surprise, she finds him frowning, and not just in confusion. "A friend of yours?" he asks, a little stiffly.

Now, Bella may not be deeply involved in gossip or in other people's relationships, and this is not what is between her and Thorin anyway, only maybe just a little, but being a hobbit, she cannot help but know enough to have an idea why Thorin is frowning. It just seems entirely absurd to her until she remembers that Thorin really doesn't know two key things everybody in Hobbiton knows: one, Drogo is her cousin, and two, Drogo is head over heels in love with Prim. "My cousin," she replies, raising one eyebrow. Thorin can't have been jealous- except upon hearing that his face clears a little. Testing, Bella continues, "You have met my friend and cousin Prim; he is very much in love with her and it appears he finally is ready to do something about it."

Now, the frown on Thorin's face vanishes completely, indicating that he truly was jealous. Bella cannot help but marvel at the thought. Thankfully Thorin distracts her before she can blurt out something unfortunate. "If they are both your cousins, are they not related as well?"

"Ah, no, not really." They start walking again as Bella explains how she and Prim are related – Thorin appears completely astonished when he hears that her grandmother Adamanta had twelve children and is only slightly reassured upon hearing that for hobbits, that is not an entirely normal number of children. Dwarrows, it turns out, tend to commonly have two or three children at the most. Hobbit families bearing commonly at least four children and usually five or six appears to completely surprise him.

"Your women must be very strong," he comments, eyeing Bella with an expression she cannot interpret.

Bella shrugs and nods because yes, she agrees. She was right there for her aunt's pregnancy a few years ago, because she and her mother were very close, and so Bella has a very good account on the hardships of pregnancy and especially childbirth. And childrearing, because after what she had always considered the most difficult part it turned out the truly hard part only began.

"This explains, though," Thorin continues on, "Why I see so many children about."

Bella tilts her head because something about that statement is a little strange. "It does? Is that unusual for your people?"

"Yes." Thorin shrugs a little, gaze focused ahead. "Of course, this is also because we live in mountains which means we have absolute control of who goes where. Out in the open this is much more difficult to control. But until the child has reached a certain age, it will stay away from any area where visitors are allowed. Dwarrow children are very precious, and protected for it," he says earnestly, only to hastily add, "Not to insinuate that hobbit children are not."

"Well, we don't really need to protect them from much," Bellay shrugs bemusedly. "Not many people come to the Shire, and very few of them care about children. I have never heard of anything bad happening to a child – barring accidents, of course." She chews on her lower lip for a moment, remembering the story of poor Botho Sackville-Baggins who drowned a few years back. "Hobbits tend to be not the best swimmers."

"The death of a child is always cause for great grief, no matter the cause," Thorin states.

"Yes." After frowning for a moment longer, Bella physically shakes herself out of the suddenly sombre mood that has overcome them. "Let us speak of something more cheerful, yes? Have you managed to form trade agreements with my grandfather?"

"The beginnings of them, yes," Thorin confirms. "Though of course such things take their time. I did not know you were related to the Thain. It is an important position for hobbits, I understand?"

"Oh, yes, grandfather is the twenty-sixth Thain of the Shire." Bella shrugs; this is not something that many hobbits concern themselves with. "It's a largely ceremonial role, really. Unless other people are involved, I suppose; for occasions such as this, the Thain will usually be involved, if only to approve whatever negotiations have taken place."

Thorin nods slowly, thoughtfully. "To equate the role with the ranks taken on by other people, he would be a king, then?"

Startled, Bella shakes her head. "Oh, no! Hobbits have no need for kings and such. We are a simple people."

"So instead of a King, you have a Thain."

"Yes." Relieved, Bella nods. "Exactly."

Thorin makes a thoughtful sound, a small smile playing around his lips. "I believe I understand. Who will become Thain after him?"

"His oldest son probably, my uncle Isengrim III." Shoulders pulling up a little, Bella takes a breath. "It would have been my mother; she was his ninth child and oldest daughter, and she was always fascinated with other folk. Passed that on to me, really." She laughs a little, and it feels good. It will probably never stop hurting, but she doesn't want to be sad all the time.

"The title is inherited, then?" Thorin makes another thoughtful noise.

All these detailed questions about this are starting to get a little confusing. "Yes." Bella tilts her head to think about it for a moment but no, she can't think of anything, except maybe Thorin is still thinking about kings? "But not to worry, hobbits really don't place much stock in such things. We tend not to get involved in anything grander than gossip."

At that, Thorin laughs and thankfully takes the change of topic. "Ah, yes. While the Thain and I were discussing business, your grandmother appeared to receive what your grandfather assured me was an unusually large number of visitors. Your cousins too appeared rather curious."

Of course, they would have; Thorin can't know that their reasons were entirely different. He probably thinks her grandmother a curious busybody too, which is all kinds of embarrassing, truly. With an embarrassed noise Bella covers her face with her hands for a moment. "Yes, well. Evergreen is a tween; they do tend to be preoccupied primarily with such things." The Green Dragon is starting to appear in their view and despite what most people would consider less than thrilling topics of conversation, Bella feels disappointment well up in her. She doesn't want this to be over yet; she wants to keep talking to Thorin, maybe eventually work her way up to asking him why he really is here. She just wants to hear him say it so she can be absolutely sure she isn't mistaken.

"A tween?" Thorin repeats.

"In her twenties," Bella clarifies. "It is... well, a trying age for hobbits. It's the period before adulthood, and most hobbits don't pass the time between sweet childhood and sensible adulthood with much grace."

"Twenty?" Abruptly, Thorin stops walking. "Bella, forgive my forwardness, but how old are you?"

Bella blinks, both because of the question and that he'd think it were rude somehow. Why would it be? "Almost forty, why?"

"Forty," Thorin repeats almost to himself. Slowly, he starts walking again, gaze fixed ahead. "Is that a young age for hobbits?"

"Almost middle-aged, really," Bella replies. "We reach adulthood in our early thirties. At thirty-three, to be exact, but that number has been set merely for clarification purposes; some hobbits reach adulthood sooner, some later."

"So hobbits usually reach what age? Ninety?"

"A hundred, really, and my line – my grandfather's line – has the tendency to get older. Grandfather is in his hundred and twenties already, would you believe it? But he is still as bright and spry as a hobbit thirty years his junior." Bella smiles to herself for a moment; she is really glad that after losing her parents, she at least still has both her grandparents. "Why do you ask? Is it because dwarrows have longer lifespans?"

"You know about that?" Thorin appears startled for a moment. "I had not known the differences were so great. Though there is not much information to be found about hobbits."

Bella shrugs. "We are a simple people. Is the difference that great, though? I only know that dwarrows get older than a hundred normally, but your lifespans are not comparable to the elves', surely?"

"Oh, no, no, definitely not that." Thorin grimaces. "It clearly is not good for them to be essentially immortal. No, my kind commonly reaches two hundred and forty, maybe fifty years of age."

That... well, that is over twice as long as hobbits. An obvious question occurs to Bella. "How old are you, then?"

"At around a hundred and seventy, past middle-aged, actually," Thorin informs her, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. He looks lovely in the late sunshine, the warm rays soft on his face, highlighting the deep blue colour of his eyes.

"Well," Bella says after a moment, blinking herself out of her momentary distraction and hoping he noticed neither that, nor the resulting flush colouring her cheeks. "That is quite an age, for a hobbit."

"Indeed. My sistersons are much closer to you in age – in numbers, in any case, though certainly not in spirit."

Sistersons? This is the first time she hears anything of that – anything of Thorin's family, actually. She thinks her grandmother must have asked him about it earlier but she unfortunately missed the reply. "How old are they, then? In spirit as well as in numbers."

"Kili is little older than fifty and Fili is almost sixty. Fili is almost an adult."

Bella lowers her eyes and blinks a little. They are both older than her and not even considered adults yet! He must view her a child.

Yet Thorin continues, "So in spirit, they are of the same age perhaps as your cousin Evergreen." He smiles to himself; she sees it out of the corners of her eyes. "They are a lot more mischievous than your cousin, however. She might in spirit be even older than they."

That must mean he doesn't consider her a child, mustn't it? He just compared his nephews to her cousin who really is younger than Bella, not just in numbers but in any other way as well. "I find that a little hard to believe," Bella ventures, still a little unsure. "She may not have seemed that way during dinner, but she really is quite lively. Not malicious at all, though, and really quite sweet," she adds out of loyalty to her cousin. Evergreen might be a little much at times, but she means well. She just doesn't really think her actions through, which is a mark of her age, really, not a character flaw.

"Well, Fili and Kili... no, I don't think anybody would call them sweet," Thorin laughs a little, voice fond and warm. "They are good boys, but very rambunctious. Had they been present for dinner – a horrifying thought, truly – it would not have been half as civilised, or calm."

"I do have cousins that could be described like that – they have a fondness for pranking, or at least did in my youth. They are married and engaged respectively these days, one of them even has a child already so they have settled down somewhat." A little. As much as Tooks really settle down.

"Yes, pranks, exactly." Thorin grins at her and stops walking, and it's only then that Bella realises that they have arrived at the Green Dragon already. Thorin looks at the door, then back at her. "If you would be willing to wait for a moment, I have something for you."

"For me?" Bella repeats, taken completely by surprise. "How- I mean, of course I can wait."

"It won't take a minute," Thorin assures her, then strides off into the tavern. Still surprised, Bella stares after him for a moment before shuffling on her feet a little and looking around. It is getting a little darker now but now that dinnertime has passed more hobbits start to be about again, passing her by on their way home from various dinner engagements or for a half-pint at the Green Dragon. Everyone who walks past close enough nods at her, and one or two hobbits stop for a quick exchange of pleasantries but after dinner hobbits tend to prefer to socialise inside rather than outside.

As promised, Thorin returns soon, carrying something small enough to fit into one palm. "I wasn't sure- I made this," he interrupts himself, handing it over. It's a small package, something hard wrapped in a fine, soft cloth that cannot be silk; surely not.

She unwraps it to find a brooch made of a silvery metal – surely not silver itself though – and, with a size about as big as her thumb, not too garishly large, but not too tiny and delicate either. It's a flower with six pointed petals and a handful of pollen stems reaching out from its core – belladonna. Even to her untrained eye the brooch is obviously fine craftsmanship, the metal thin and somehow formed perfectly, the flower crafted in such a way that Bella would easily believe it to be a real flower somehow transformed into metal by some magician's work.

It rests in her palm on its bed of soft, blue cloth and Bella cannot stop staring at it.

"I did not take as much time with it as I perhaps should have," Thorin tells her after a moment, sounding embarrassed. "I was in a hurry but I realise now that it is no excuse. Gifts should be as masterfully crafted as possible, if you give it back I will melt it down-"

"No!" Bella exclaims, curling her fingers around the brooch and holding it close to her chest. A moment later she flushes, mortified at her behaviour. "I mean, of course you can have it back if you want to. But... it's beautiful. Please don't destroy it."

Thorin looks at her, then down at the flower brooch she tentatively holds out for him. "It is yours. If you wish to keep it, I could not take it from you."

Immediately, Bella pulls the flower back to herself. "Of course I wish to keep it. It is the finest gift I ever had the honour of receiving. Thank you."

For a moment they look at each other, neither of them saying a word, and then suddenly Bella just blurts out, "Why? I mean, we hardly know each other."

Again, Thorin looks from her to the brooch and back. "I thought of you," he replies very quietly.

"Oh." Flushing, Bella lowers her gaze. "I, I thought of you as well. Would you, I mean, would you like to come visit me sometime? When you are not busy, of course. For dinner, maybe. Or maybe just tea, whichever you prefer."

"I would like that very much," Thorin accepts the invitation. "I will have to take care of some things first, so perhaps the day after tomorrow? Dinner?"

"Yes, of course, whenever suits you best." Bella smiles.

"Then... have a nice evening." With a nod, Thorin steps back a little.

"You too. It was wonderful to see you again." It just slips out, Bella doesn't mean to say it, but when she's rewarded with a smile she can't think about how embarrassed she is having said that.

"You too," Thorin says, turns around and heads back into the Green Dragon.

Bella takes a deep breath, turns on the balls of her feet and determinedly marches back to Bag's End without permitting herself to back. By some monumental feat of willpower she even manages to refrain until she's for sure out of sight of the Green Dragon, and by then looking back really has no point anymore.

By the time she reaches her familiar round door she's clutching the brooch tight to her chest. As soon as she's inside and has lit some candles she examines it again from every angle, awed and humbled by it's simple beauty. It's exquisite and beautiful and she really doesn't know what she's done in Thorin's eyes to deserve it.

This isn't the type of present one gives an acquaintance. It's not even truly the type of present one gives a friend. This, Bella thinks, this is the type of present one gives a... a sweetheart.

The thought of her being anyone's sweetheart is ludicrous, she just is not the kind of hobbit hobbit lads dream of, but Thorin is not a hobbit, and he's here, is he not? He's in Hobbiton, negotiating trade that won't bring his people more profit than a settlement closer to the border would, and he all but explicitly said he's here for her. He brought her a gift – one he made himself, with his very own hands, and no matter what he said he must have put a lot of work into it. He thought of her, he said.

Bella really is not the type of hobbit to be involved in romance, but all of a sudden she finds herself in the middle of one and can barely take a deep breath for it. Part of her keeps wanting to insist that she is interpreting too much into things but evidence is stacking against that point of view.

The thing is... the thing is. It's not that Bella never wanted a bigger family or a husband and children – in fact, the opposite is the case. But she never wanted that no matter what. She wants to want it with a person, not for the thing itself, and not that the hobbit lads she has met or even dabbled with in her life were horrible or anything, but none of them, for lack of better term, felt _right_. Sure, she thinks she could have been content with Tombo Goldworthy or even Rufus Chubb, both of whom could have been serious about her once upon a time, but... truth be told, Bella had always thought she had too high expectations, and when she decided she was not willing to lower them she had contented herself with the life she was facing: unmarried, but not lonely. The hobbit lads she had known in her life, they had been safe, even boring if one were unkind, and while Bella appreciates safety well enough, she tends to get bored by it too. Besides which, she always considered herself safe enough on her own.

Thorin is not safe. Well, he might be, she has no way of knowing that yet, but he is a stranger. Right now she just can't make any decisions, can't let herself- but for that it's too late already; she did not keep her heart well-protected and if he leaves now or turns out to not want the same things as she might or to just not be honest, she will be hurt.

But that is a risk she always faces; even if Thorin were a hobbit who grew up in a neighbouring village, she would not be able to be sure about him at this stage. Everyone might know everyone (or at least know someone who knows someone) in the Shire, but that doesn't have to mean anything. Bella has heard quite a few times of a hobbit (lad or lass) who behaved less than genuinely and did not suffer much consequences for it, apart from a bit of gossip for a few months. Everyone still tells the story of Wilcome Proudfoot and how he kept two hobbit lasses in different villages who never knew about the other until he decided to marry a third, but they still invite him around for dinner.

These thoughts are not going to help Bella any, though, so she pushes them aside and looks at the facts: she likes Thorin. Thorin appears to like her. He will remain in Hobbiton for the foreseeable future, giving both of them time to get to know each other better and figure out what truly is happening.

That's all she knows for now; anything else, the future will bring.

The calm she forces herself into by keeping those facts in mind lasts only until elevenses the following day, because that's when Prim knocks on her door and just stares at Bella with wide eyes for a few moments, apparently rendered speechless. "Bella!" she eventually exclaims slightly breathlessly. "So scandalous!"

Bella sighs and goes to make tea. "I assume Evergreen told and by now everyone in Hobbiton knows?"

"Just Hobbiton? I believe you underestimate the gravity of these news," Prim replies, humour in her voice but Bella knows she is not jesting.

She sighs again. "Truly?"

"Well, it probably would not be as exciting a piece of news if the hobbit lass were not you, and if the dwarf in question were less handsome, less finely mannered, and if grandmother had not led him around the market this morning, introducing him to everyone." At Bella's horrified face, Prim snickers. "He was very polite. Apparently she was helping him set up a list of clients for the whole smithing business he's going to set up while he waits to hear back form his people about the trading, but everyone knows what she truly was doing."

Showing everyone that she is aware of the rumours that must be coursing about Thorin and Bella, and that she endorses the relationship. Torn between mortification and being pleased at her grandmother's support, Bella sends a pleading look towards her cousin, hoping for some calming words, but Prim's eyes are gleaming. "He truly is quite handsome. I never knew you had it in you, Bella."

Prim laughs when Bella groans and covers her eyes with one hand as her cheeks turn red. "I spoke with him this morning though, and he was both courteous and interested; he asked about the significance of gardens to hobbits."

"That's... nice?" Confused, Bella lowers her hand and blinks at her cousin. The Shire is not only very green, there are a lot of gardens. Every hobbit has one, even children, and if it's only a corner in their parents' garden. An important step into adulthood is receiving a share of the responsibility to provide vegetables for the household.

"Oh, Bella." Prim rolls her eyes. "He asked the same way Dinodas Brown asked about Menegilde's favourite plants when he was planning to build her a garden."

"...what way would that be?" Bella asks suspiciously. Dinodas and Menegilde are married with their second child on the way; the garden was Dinodas' wedding gift to his bride. Surely Prim must be interpreting too much into it.

"Like he was seriously thinking about the implications and practicalities," Prim readily supplies. Seeing Bella's sceptical look, she sighs. "I explained to him the significance of gardens to hobbits – you always say that other folk don't know a thing about hobbits, right? Well, he knows now, and he still asked questions after I explained to him."

Well, there are not many ways Bella can argue about it now, certainly not without seeming wilfully obtuse. "So you think he- but we barely know each other?"

"But sometimes you just know, it doesn't matter if you met them a day ago or a year or ten years; you just know," Prim says quietly. The gravity in her voice is not just because that is how she feels about Drogo, but because she is quoting Bella's mother, who always said this about herself and Bungo. Everyone had looked at them in askance, said a Took and a Baggins would never make for a good marriage, but Belladonna had always said the only reason they didn't marry the week they met was because her father would not let them until Bungo built a home for her. He'd meant to chase Bungo off with such outrageous a demand, but Bungo had done it – had, in fact, started planning the day Gerontius told him about his condition, and within a few months Bungo Baggins built Bag's End for Belladonna Took. It's a story still told today.

Bella feels conceited for thinking about Thorin and herself in the context of her parents' romance, even if Prim was the one to make the comparison, so she changes topics. "Speaking of, Drogo is coming over for tea today to talk about something. I think he has your gift ready and wants to hear what I think."

As expected, Prim flushes; she sends Bella a quick glare for the obvious change of topic but lets it pass, unable not to ask after an opening like that. "But you still don't know what it is?"

"No, he didn't say," Bella shakes her head and doesn't mention that she was with Thorin when she met Drogo and that he as a consequence probably didn't.

"Well, no matter what it is, you're going to tell him I'll love it," Prim decides firmly.

That, Bella did not expect. "Truly? But what if-?"

"No," Prim interrupts. "I have waited long enough for him to finally work his way up to it; that lad is too shy by half. I told him a year ago that I would accept anything he gave me."

Bella remembers that; for a long time Prim had settled for trying to give Drogo hints and encouragements but on top of being shy, Drogo also tends to be rendered speechless in her friend's presence. Having her tell him so directly that his suit would be welcome had been too much for the poor lad. It would be perhaps more amusing and more tragic if Prim were not just as smitten with him as he is with her.

They discuss Drogo for a little while more and then Prim has to leave to continue with her errands that she interrupted to bring Bella the news. Once her cousin is gone Bella tries to occupy herself with tasks around her home, but knowing that she won't see Thorin today but that he is in Hobbiton doesn't help her concentration at all. By the time Drogo and his strawberry buns come around for tea she has given up on doing anything complicated and has settled to baking for stress relief. Thankfully, Drogo is too nervous himself to notice her distraction, and it only takes her a little more than an hour to reassure him that Prim will love his idea – and she truly will; he has hand-stitched a fine apron with bundles of primrose flowers in various sizes and colours. It's almost too much for a first gift – much like the brooch Thorin made for her, a small voice whispers in the back of Bella's mind – but it reflects well the depth of what Drogo wants to tell Prim, and Bella is not exaggerating at all when she says that Prim will love it. Calming Drogo down at least has the side-benefit of calming herself down a little as well, and Bella is able to get enough sleep that night despite her nerves.

It's not just the dinner that's on her mind when she rises that morning, but the fact that she will have to go to the market to buy a few things for it and will thus have to brace the gossip. Never having been at the centre of such exciting news, Bella knows not what exactly to expect, but thankfully her horror visions of being pounced upon the moment she enters the marketplace don't come to pass. At least not right away. But somehow, everybody she sees today wants to say hello to her, and a few more daring hobbits make hints about the dwarf visitor. Bella plays innocent, managing to neither confirm nor deny the piece of gossip that she and Thorin met before – that is the censored version she is told; she is sure there are quite a few outrageous tales about how she's come to know Thorin – but her shopping trip still takes three times as long as it normally would have. She is actually so exhausted when she gets back that she has to take a nap to recover.

Once she's up and about again, she sets to preparing for dinner. Instead of preparing one grand meal, she has decided to do what she usually does when she has guests and prepare several of her signature dishes. She's already nervous enough without adding more reason to fret by trying to make a meal she is not sure she will do well. So she spends the day making several pies, some sweet and some hearty, makes a soup, bakes bread, cuts some cheese and retrieves both wine and ale from the cellar. She also makes a roast with potatoes and vegetables, because she knows she is good at that. By the time dinner comes around and Thorin knocks on her door, Bella is fairly certain that her food is up to her standards and that he definitely will not leave her table hungry.

Her dress, she is less sure about. At the last moment she realised that perhaps the simple, sturdy dress she spent all day cooking in might not be fit for the occasion. Noticing so late means she didn't have much time to fret about it, but it also means that she really is not sure the dress she finally put on – a blue one made of fine linen with black embroidery on the hem that she is fairly sure she doesn't look bad in – is suitable. Her hair isn't really up to par either but that really is far too late to change now.

She opens her door and forgets about all of that. Thorin cuts a very fine figure in his blue tunic and heavy boots, but what captures Bella's attention almost more than he does is the fact that he is carrying a potted plant for her: a small bundle of gloxinia in full bloom, deep purple with a white rim. Bella maybe possibly feels a little faint for a moment, looking at him and the flower. Gloxinia: love at first sight.

"Hello," Thorin says after a moment of silence.

Bella stares for a second longer, then steps up to him, rises to the tips of her toes and kisses him straight on the lips. It's not planned, she doesn't mean to do it and if she had known she would she would have stopped herself; it's really not appropriate but she really can't help it in that moment.

His lips remain still under hers and, completely mortified at her own boldness, Bella steps back and squeaks, "Uhm, hello."

It's Thorin's turn to stare now; looking completely gobsmacked he does not move for a moment. Then he licks his lips, clears his throat, steps past her to put the potted flower on the nearest available surface, turns around to her and cups her hot face with both hands. Bella feels her eyes go a little wide and then Thorin is kissing her back, lips soft and gentle on hers.

It's not a particularly long kiss, nor an inappropriate one – barring the fact that them kissing at all isn't entirely appropriate at this stage, since official courtship has begun between them the moment Thorin gave her the brooch. But Bella still is left breathless and speechless when Thorin pulls back. It really doesn't help that he is visibly flushing as well now. "Hello," he says again, voice a little raspy.

Bella licks her lips, and his eyes immediately zero in on her mouth. "Hello." She clears her throat. Right, start at the beginning. "Uhm. Come in. How are you? What would you like to drink?" Belatedly, she closes the door; she can only hope nobody saw them just now, and especially when she kissed him on her doorstep.

He coughs a little. "I am well. How are you? I brought you something." Taking the flower, he hands it over to her.

She takes a deep breath. "Yes, I saw. Thank you." She takes the flower pot and smiles at him. If he knows what the flower means – and he ought to, he's the one who brought it to her, in a pot as well instead of cut which means he must have asked somebody about flower meanings, and anybody would have told him that accepting the flower also means accepting and, depending on the message, reciprocating. Especially for a powerful flower such as this one.

Thorin smiles at her a little shakily, then makes a show of looking around her entrance hall. "You have a lovely home."

Of course, he has never been here before; relieved, Bella latches on to the opportunity. "Come, I will show you around." She shows him her study, the living room, the door to the bathroom and finally the kitchen, where they settle at the table. It's not awkward at all because seeing her study Thorin had perused her collection of books and manuscripts and they're already deeply involved in a discussion about the common tongue and the theory that every book in existence should be translated; a human is apparently working on translating all Elvish texts and has started a project about it. Thorin, being a dwarf, is completely opposed to the idea – not to the spreading of knowledge, but he says that every people have things they wish to keep to themselves or at least not share with everybody. Bella does end up having to concede the point, but she is too much of a scholar to not be a little unhappy about it.

Had Bella initially worried that this evening might reveal that their easy conversation in Bree had merely been born of circumstances and happenstance, that thought is completely dispersed before the first hour has passed; conversation is smooth and they easily move from topic to topic, not always agreeing but always able to find a common ground. Thorin reveals that he was glad to find out that her grandfather holds such an important in the Shire for he, as he puts it, is of not entirely common birth either and his people easier accept such things if there is not too large a gap in status.

Bella, because today her mouth apparently does things before she has allowed it to, blurts out, "Which things?" When he blinks, she hastens to say, "I mean, I know, I just... would like for there to not be any misunderstandings."

Thorin looks at her, then at the gloxinia she put on the kitchen windowsill. "I did mean to add Iris as well but your cousin suggested that might be a little forward."

Iris: faith, which in combination with the gloxinia would have strengthened the message and added a spin hinting towards intentions for this to last.

"Oh," Bella makes a bit weakly, feeling colour return to her cheeks. She does entirely too much blushing in Thorin's presence, truly.

"My people..." Thorin hesitates and Bella realises that this is one of these things he was arguing earlier; something a people would wish to keep to themselves, not share with just anyone. "We have this belief that essentially, every dwarf has somebody who completes them in their soul." He raises one eyebrow and looks straight at Bella in a way that makes it impossible to doubt that he's referring to her. "I believe that if one has found their match, waiting is a waste of time."

Bella takes a breath and nods. "I just... never expected this. I always thought I- and how would it even work? I live here and you live in the Blue Mountains." Which is still better than "far East", where he told her his people come from, but still.

"I think that so long as we are on the same page, we will be able to work something out," Thorin says, and that. Bella had not gotten the impression that he is the optimistic kind; he is a realist with some tendencies towards expecting the dire, but that is really optimistic of him. It's incredibly flattering, if nothing else.

Especially since, well. "We're on the same page."

"Good." Thorin smiles at her.

Bella returns the smile, then focuses on her apple pie again for a moment until something occurs to him. "A gap in status, you said earlier. What does that mean?"

"Your people don't put much stock in titles and I find that very refreshing," Thorin says after a moment. "Would you mind if I didn't tell you just yet? It doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things anyhow."

That, Bella can agree with, and while she's curious especially for the slightly bitter undertone in his voice, she doesn't mind. She shrugs. "Sure, if you want. Let's talk about your nephews, then, if you don't mind; I must admit I'm a little curious. I have never heard of mischievous dwarrows."

Thorin snorts like that's funny, and after he has told her a few stories of the sort of antics his nephews Fili and Kili get up to she begins to understand. She in turn tells him a few stories of the things her cousins and her got up to in her day, which leads to him telling her about the sort of things he and his brother did when they were young, not unlike the stories of Fili and Kili. Except it turns out that his brother is dead, which quite sobers the mood for a moment before Thorin starts talking about his sister and they can move on. Again they end up talking for hours, well into the evening; by the time she realises quite how late it is it's way past the time when he should have left. Her neighbours, who might very well be paying attention if they have seen him come in – which they probably have – will probably have a thing or two to say to her about that tomorrow. Yet Bella doesn't say a word about it as she walks him to his door, and when he appears to be about to leave without a repeat performance of their hellos she quickly remedies that by moving in for a kiss.

She means to keep it short and sweet, but somehow his hand finds her waist and he leans into her, the kiss turning slow and thorough. He tastes of the tea she made, cinnamon and herbs, and his mouth really is quite warm and breathtaking. Again Bella finds herself dazed when he pulls away, slow as if reluctant, and she almost misses his quiet "Goodnight".

Swallowing, she does manage to return it at the last moment, and then he's out her door after throwing one last glance at her over his shoulder.

This time, Bella does allow herself to watch, but only until he's past her gate; then she closes the door and leans against it, letting out one slow, long breath.

*

"You did not!" Prim gasps in scandalised delight over second breakfast the next day. "You kissed him? Belladonna Baggins the Second!"

"Yes, well." Bella flushes and focuses on her tea. "He brought me gloxinia, and not as a bouquet but in a pot, what was I supposed to do?" Which reminds her: she gasps and boxes Prim in the shoulder. "And you! You helped him pick the flower and did not tell me!"

Unapologetic, Prim shrugs and grins. "So when we talked about gardens we talked about flowers as well, and their significance to hobbits. He came and asked me the next day if he should bring you any or if that was against etiquette, and then he asked me which flowers symbolise love." Her grin widens into a smile. "It was really quite sweet, he asked a lot of questions. When he asked about your namesake flower he got a little flustered though, for some reason."

Right, Bella hadn't shown her cousin yet. "Wait a moment." She hurries off to retrieve the silver brooch Thorin made for her from its resting place on her nightstand, where she can see it right before falling asleep and after waking up. "He made me this before he came here," she explains when she returns and flushes a little when Prim's eyes go wide.

"He made this?" Prim repeats, delicately taking the brooch and examining it. "It's beautiful. I didn't know such delicate things could be done with metal." She examines it from every angle before almost reverently handing it back. The two of them stare at it for a moment until Prim suddenly lets out a giggle. "Of course, if it were not your namesake flower, the meaning would be quite unfortunate."

"We can't all be named after flowers that symbolise an unhealthy, if romantic attachment," Bella informs Prim archly. Primrose symbolises the giver not being able to live without the receiver.

Prim's eyes widen suddenly and she sits up in excitement. "And did you see the apron Drogo made me? He learned how to embroider for it! He made it himself, it took months!"

Bella smiles. "Yes, he showed me. It's really very sweet."

"Well, he will definitely have to make me a crown for midsummer now." Prim nods decisively. "I won't let him get spooked again, not this year, not after that." She hesitates for a moment. "Do you think Thorin would-?"

Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, Bella thinks about it for a moment. "If he knew the meaning, I... I don't know. He did say he doesn't believe in waiting, and honestly... I really don't see the point in waiting until next year either? We still have a year after that, after all."

"That's true," Prim agrees. "But you would still have that year even without the midsummer crowning."

"We couldn't get married until after next year's midsummer though," Bella points out. She can't quite believe she's talking about marriage already, but it's not like she's planning on it or anything, just considering the possibility. "Besides, not everyone who crowns on midsummer does get married after all." Technically, it's the truth, even if it's been many years since a couple last broke that tradition. If you crown for the midsummer festival, you openly display that you have the firm intention to marry and very few have not gone through with it after such a declaration.

"True," Prim concedes. Then she shrugs. "If you are sure, Bella, I'm not going to argue."

"It would be a bit much after you were the one who showed him the flowers," Bella tells her, one eyebrow arched. "Besides, nobody's talked about crowning yet."

Prim says nothing, but Bella will recall her smile later and ask herself how, seeing it, she didn't get suspicious right then and there.

She and Thorin haven't made any arrangements about meeting again – they couldn't have, because he is quite busy. Bella hears about it from various sources and doesn't bother pretending not to know why everyone sees fit to inform her on Thorin's movements. He sets up in the old smith's shop that has been empty for years, repairing whatever needs to be fixed inside. Already he's taking commissions and pretty soon produces the first flower brooch made of copper, requested by one Drogo Baggins who apparently took Prim's gushing about Bella's brooch to heart. Everybody hears about it within the day, and Prim's delight upon the news makes it quite hard for her to pretend she knows nothing about it in front of Drogo.

Bella herself decides to give Thorin a couple of days to settle before she prepares a lunch basket and goes to visit him. He seems both surprised and delighted – at least in his way; he doesn't wear emotions as openly as hobbits do but Bella is starting to be able to discern his expressions – to see her, and surprised when she hands him a present. "It's nothing big," she quickly disclaims, a little embarrassed because both his presents have been so grand and hers... isn't. "Though you should... yes, that."

He has unwrapped the book and it almost automatically fell open in the middle, where she put a pressed flower. She is quite lucky she actually had one; it's not a type she has ever used before. "Ambrosia," she informs him quietly, and he looks at her, then sets it back between the pages and looks at the cover of the book again: "The language of flowers: an index of the most common flowers used". If hobbits were the type to keep secrets, this book would probably be it. Without a word, Thorin opens the book's index, looks up the flower and opens the relevant page. Ambrosia: your love is reciprocated, it says, with a small text underneath going a bit into context and how the meaning can be reinforced, clarified or weakened. For their circumstances, only the former does apply.

Thorin stares at the entry in the book for a moment, then leafs back to where the pressed flower lies and looks at it for a moment too. When he looks up his smile is soft. "Thank you."

Bella returns the smile and even manages to flush only a little. "No, thank _you_."

It turns into a tradition. Every couple of days Bella will come visit Thorin with a meal that they share; they don't exchange any more gifts for a while. Thorin says her presence and excellent food are more than enough already, and she returns that his company is a pleasure and if he gives her any gifts, she will feel compelled to give him gifts too. Thorin frowns at her, that tiny crease between his eyebrows and severe expression that she's starting to learn are his version of a pout, but gives in. Not without muttering something about gold and sapphires that honestly worries Bella a little, but he gives in.

A little over a month after his arrival in Hobbiton, Thorin visits Bella for dinner again. Afterwards they sit on the bench in her garden, enjoying the warm summer evening with a pipe and some tea. "Soon the days will get shorter again," Bella comments, only slightly wistfully. With normal winters, she has no particular issue, but her time with Thorin feels a little bit like holding your breath, like they're separate from everything and with the end of summer, reality will return. He will leave in the fall, she knows that, he has to return to his family and in her heart, Bella knows that Thorin would not stay in Hobbiton forever even if he could.

The question is: would Bella go with him? For just a winter, the answer to that question is unequivocally yes. For longer... that is a prospect Bella is not willing to confront just yet. Mostly because whenever she thinks about her answer the faces of her friends and family if they could hear her occur to her and she feels unaccountably guilty. Even though Thorin hasn't even asked her yet, and she hasn't made any decisions yet either.

"What is it?" Thorin asks. "You've gone quiet."

He's a calm presence by her side, and even if he hasn't said anything yet, Bella decides that she will. "I'm thinking about leaving. With you."

Going still, Thorin takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. "And what are you thinking?"

"Mostly that I would, if you asked me." It is the truth and she means it, but still her voice wavers a little. Life here might get boring sometimes but in the end Bella still loves it, loves her home. The home her father built for her mother.

Thorin settles one arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. "I would- the Blue Mountains are not that far from here. You could- in winter, stay with me. The summer, you could stay here. I would not demand you leave your home behind. I would visit." He takes another deep breath. "I had been planning to ask you for the honour of crowning you in the tradition of your people this midsummer celebration, but if you wish, I could ask you next year. Or the year after. I would wait."

Bella is silent for a moment, letting it all pass through her head once more. More than one hobbit had looked at her in askance for what they perceive to be a whirlwind romance – it's no secret that they see each other often, even if only rarely in private. But to Bella, it doesn't feel like a whirlwind; it feels inevitable. Waiting another year or two would just unnecessarily prolong it, and besides which, she does not _want_ to wait. "Ask me now," she says and lets the knowledge settle around her shoulders that she means it, fully and completely.

Arm sliding off her shoulders, Thorin turns on the bench to face her and takes her hand. "Belladonna Baggins, will you grant me the privilege of crowning you on this summer's midsummer celebration?"

Bella – Bella smiles. "Only if you will let me crown you in return."

Thorin looks at her a moment, then nods gravely. "So it shall be."

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [this lovely image](http://gremlinloquacious.tumblr.com/post/86031018668/my-hobbit-big-bang-contribution-colpo-di-fulmine) of Bella and Thorin's first meeting that gremlinloquacious created!  
> And [here](http://vaakalintu.tumblr.com/post/85995432774/hobbit-big-bang) vaakalintu made two wonderful pictures of Thorin and Bella in their flower crowns.
> 
> I really wanted to write about the creation and giving of the flower crowns as well, especially since vaakalintu made such beautiful pictures of them, but if I had let myself this story would have surpassed the 25k and I just did not have that kind of time.


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